These Scars That Bind
by ShackledinSilver
Summary: The remaining Death Eaters leave an ominous sign for their best traitor, raising the stakes both for the Golden Boy and the Spy. Can they get each other through it? Or will it tear them apart?
1. A Tough Brew

**A/N: Hey guys! I know I know, I should be updating my other longfic, but this story popped into my head the other night when I was about to go to sleep and I've literally been able to focus on nothing else sooo here it is!**

**It won't be as long though, I'm thinking about 5 or 6 chapters total, although I never really know where they're gonna end up completely.**

**Anyway enjoy it guys! I'll probably be writing a lot of it tomorrow and this weekend so it should be done soon!**

**Enjoy!**

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"Damn it," he cursed under his breath as his potion bubbled up to the rim of his cauldron, threatening to overflow. How Dumbledore had convinced Snape, of all people, to let him into his NEWT level potions class was beyond him. He hadn't done _terrible _on his OWLs, an Exceeds Expectations, but Snape had been adamant the year before about only allowing students who had earned an Outstanding to return. He grumbled under his breath, thinking maybe he would be happy with a career outside of the Auror Department. Something that didn't require NEWT level potions. He doubted he could even pass the exam anyway. "Fuck...fuck, fuck, fuck," he kept up a stream of profanities under his breath as his potion turned an alarming shade of yellow.

"Language, Potter. Ten points from Gryffindor," a cool voice leveled from behind him. He bit his tongue on another swear, sighing slightly at what he knew was coming. He looked over towards Ron, who was oblivious to everything as he stared into his cauldron, scratching his head. Hermione sent him a sympathetic glance as she stirred her own potion.

"And what is this supposed to be?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow as he peered down his long nose into Harry's cauldron.

"Black Fire Potion, sir," he answered frostily, gesturing slightly at their instructions written across the board. Snape shot him a glare, issuing a small _hmph _at his tone, before he straightened. Black Fire Potion was supposed to be amber in color, and quite thin. Upon drinking, it would make the drinker able to walk through black fire without injuries. Harry sat still, taking a deep breath as Snape shifted behind him.

"Hardly," he said icily, "Count yourself lucky there will be no practical implementation for today's potion," he continued, cleaning out Harry's cauldron entirely with a flick of his wand. "You would hardly shield yourself from the _heat. _Five points from Gryffindor," he finished, turning his back. Harry scoffed, flushing as he got ready to fight back. Hermione shook her head slightly, but Snape seemed to already have noticed. "For pure incompetence," he sneered, before making his way back to his desk and sitting down in a flurry of black robes. "Time is up," he called to the entire class. "Bottle your samples and put them properly labeled at the front of the class," he dismissed them with a wave of his hand.

Harry packed his bag, throwing his book and supplies rather roughly against the cloth as he grumbled. Ron clapped him on the back. "Cheer up, mate," he tousled his red hair with an easy going smile, probably happy that the class was finally over. "After this year you'll never have to deal with that greasy old sod again outside of Order meetings,"

Harry chuckled once, adjusting his glasses as he glanced over at Snape's desk. Black eyes met green and Harry flushed slightly. "If I should be so lucky," he muttered, looking back down and swallowing. "Lunch?" He smiled, nudging Ron in the ribs, knowing his friend was always eager for his next meal.

"Oh hell yeah," he laughed, putting an arm over Hermione's shoulders as she rolled her eyes at the two of them.

"Language, Weasley," Snape warned from across the room.

"Sorry, sir," he answered, not sounding sorry at all, but quickening his steps all the same in an attempt to hurry along their escape from the dungeons.

"Potter, stay. I need to speak to you," Snape continued, meeting his gaze. Harry sighed, running a hand through his already messy hair.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied glumly, casting a longing look at his friends.

"We'll save you a seat," Hermione said softly, trying not to look at Snape as she smiled softly at Harry before Ron towed her into the hall and the door closed with a soft thud, leaving the two black haired men in silence.

"Sir?" Harry said flippantly after a few seconds, making an impatient noise in the back of his throat as the older man kept grading papers without looking up.

"You can drop the formalities, Potter, it is just you and I now," he said coolly, finally glancing up at the boy with a hint of a smirk on his face. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Did you actually want something, _sir_?"

Snape raised an eyebrow, stretching as he pushed away from the stack of papers on his desk. "Still so cold," he said, voice pitched low. Harry picked up on his slight teasing but chose to ignore it. "Some might think you actually dislike me,"

"Well, you make it so difficult," Harry threw back at him sarcastically, rolling his eyes, but unable to stop the edges of his lips from curling upwards.

Snape scoffed, "It's not my fault you do not know how to fake a normal level of potions mastery without completely destroying whatever it is you are attempting to brew,"

"Oh, I assure you, that much I am not faking," Harry grinned ruefully as he heard the lock in the door click as Snape no doubt uttered a wandless spell. He dropped his bag onto the floor with the soft clinking of glass and sat down on the edge of Snape's desk, stretching his legs out in front of him.

He raised an eyebrow as he watched Snape take in his jean-clad legs, knowing full well that the Potions Master enjoyed him in his muggle clothing. He stretched, arching his back as he sighed, the picture of comfort in the dark classroom. "Do make yourself comfortable," Snape drawled, standing up and leisurely making his way around his desk to where Harry sat. He raked a hand through Harry's hair, bringing it down to cup his cheek for a quick moment.

"Come," he said briskly, turning and opening a hidden door that led to his private office.

Harry smiled coyly, detecting the faint hint of arousal in Snape's voice; it was a little deeper, a little more gravelly. He looked up at the other man through his lashes as he drew closer, black eyes burning. "So you _did _want something," Harry said quietly, shifting slightly to make himself more accessible. "_Sir,_" he added, smirking at the growl issuing from Snape's throat.

"Need is a better suited term," he answered, only a sliver of open space left between them.

"Oh?" Harry asked, feigning an intense curiosity. He wanted to know, it was true, but there were...other things he wanted more in this moment.

"I've not seen you in...what? A week and a half? Tsk, tsk, Potter," he continued, voice deep and laced slightly with the ominous tone he usually took on when handing out detentions.

"S'not my fault you went out the one night I had free of studying. NEWTs are kind of a big deal, Professor," Harry teased lightly, looking down at his hands as he spoke. He looked back up through his lashes, winking once.

"Yes, I will ask the Dark Lord to next time take into account my sexual agenda while planning his meetings," Snape drawled dryly, bending to rub his lips along the edge of Harry's jaw. Harry sighed, trying to keep his thoughts coherent while he still could.

"Sexual agenda?" He wrinkled his nose at the words, pulling back slightly from the other man.

"Mmm, what would you rather I use?" He muttered against Harry's neck, bringing his hands up to push his robe off of his shoulders.

"Oh, I can think of plenty ofthings for you to _use_," Harry grinned, swinging his legs off the desk as he turned and pulled Snape towards him so that he was standing in between his legs. He arched playfully into the other man's body, feeling the evidence of his playful flirting twitch against his thigh. Harry thrust a hand between them, squeezing Snape's cock through his robes. Snape growled, biting on the earlobe he had been kissing and slamming himself into Harry's body. Harry deftly unbuttoned the long trail down Snape's torso, having become skillful in his desire to rid Snape of the cumbersome outerwear in recent months. He shoved the cloak to the floor, where it pooled around the older man's feet.

Snape grabbed his chin roughly, pulling him close and crushing their lips together. His tongue explored Harry's mouth, taking in his soft moans as the familiar taste of Snape reached his lips. Harry fumbled with the hem of Snape's plain black tee shirt. The older wizard broke their kiss, breathing slightly heavier than before as he leaned away slightly and lifted his shirt over his head, throwing it on top of his and Harry's robes, before lifting off Harry's shirt and adding it to the pile.

Snape turned his attention back to the younger wizard, knotting a hand in his messy black hair as he grinded against him, pushing him back on the desk until Harry was propped up on his elbows. Harry scrabbled at the black hair as Snape ducked his head and kissed Harry's smooth chest, stopping to draw a nipple between his teeth. He dragged the air in over his teeth as Snape bucked into him, pausing in his work to look up at Harry's lustful green eyes.

He smirked slightly, trailing a long finger down his torso and hooking it in the waist of his pants. Harry swore softly, bucking his hips involuntarily. Snape chuckled darkly once, swiftly undoing the buttons to Harry's jeans and pulling them past his now prominent erection. "My, my," he said quietly, tracing a finger down the inside of one thigh and up the other, careful not to touch Harry's length. "No underpants? We are presumptuous," he drawled, yanking his pants the rest of the way off before standing and quickly getting rid of his own. He laid his body fully against Harry's, making the younger man squirm from his place on the hard wood of the desk. A groan fell from Harry's lips as Snape reached down and stroked him leisurely, licking Harry's bottom lip as he closed his eyes.

"Severus," he breathed, clawing his nails into the older man's back, scrabbling to try and get them closer as he moved, rubbing their cocks together. Snape grunted, biting on Harry's collar bone as he ran a finger around his opening, preparing him. Harry bucked into his hand, impatient.

"Fuck me," he whispered, tugging on Snape's long hair until he raised his head to look at him. He met the black gaze defiantly, looking from one eye to the other as he tried to discern the other man's intentions. _Don't pick today to be gentle, _he pleaded mentally. He saw a spark in the onyx eyes, and a low growl escaped those thin lips as he abandoned his ministrations.

"If you insist," he said coolly, only the slight hitch to his breathing giving away his less than calm demeanor. He wrapped a strong arm around Harry's middle, the fingers of his other hand digging into his hip as he pulled him from the desk, flipping him around until his hands were pressed flat on the wood. He nudged Harry's legs apart with his thigh, setting himself square behind him. He pushed the head of his leaking cock into Harry's tight hole, gasping slightly before pulling back out.

"Bastard," Harry ground out, panting heavily. He heard Snape chuckle once behind him, in between his harsh breaths. He grunted loudly as he pushed back into Harry.

"Oh, fuck," he moaned, arching his back into Snape as they moved together, Snape thrusting hard and fast into him. Severus tightened his grip around Harry's mid section, pulling him flush against his own chest and removing his hand from its spot on Harry's hip to wrap around his cock. He pumped him hard, biting down on the back of his neck as Harry reached back and held on to his shoulders tightly. He laid his head against Snape's shoulder, closing his eyes as his long black hair cascaded over the side of his face with his movements. He angled his head and licked the underneath of Severus' chin. "More," he whispered, and all of a sudden he was on his back, pushed against the desk, legs spread around Snape's hips. He hooked his calves together, pulling Severus down against him and digging his nails into the cleft right at the base of Snape's spine.

"Ngh," Harry dragged his nails up Snape's back, feeling a hand knot into his hair, tugging at his scalp. He turned his head slightly, bracing his hand against Snape's bare chest, putting just enough space between them to look into his face. They locked eyes, long black hair forming a curtain to frame their faces, making it seem almost like there was nothing in that moment but the two of them.

Snape was breathing heavily, grunting hoarsely as he reached in between their bodies to grab Harry's shaft tightly. He gasped, fingers curling against Severus' chest as he pumped him, and Harry could feel the heat curling in his stomach. He met Snape's eyes, a strangled cry leaving his lips as he came, splashing hot liquid between the two of them. He arched his back once more into Snape, tightening his legs around the other man's hips as he shuddered slightly and finished, spilling himself inside Harry.

They were both breathing heavily, Harry slowly relaxed his legs as Snape slipped out of him, muttering a quick cleaning spell before he collapsed over Harry's chest, grazing his teeth over Harry's neck as they tried to regain their breath. Harry smiled while Severus couldn't see him, breathing in deeply the scent of sex and sweat. He rubbed his hand absentmindedly down Snape's back, content with the man's weight pinning him down. He sighed slightly, Severus finally standing up and casting a more thorough cleansing spell on them both.

Harry stretched, grabbing his jeans and pulling them up lazily, watching as Severus clothed himself. Snape caught his gaze and arched an eyebrow, pausing in his movements.

"What? Am I not allowed to enjoy the show now?" Harry smirked, pulling his shirt over his head.

Snape snorted, picking up his robes and getting to work on the long line of buttons. "I am not even going to deign that with an answer, Potter,"

Harry rolled his eyes. He wasn't sure he would ever get used to Snape's cool demeanor, even after sex. It wasn't...normal. But it was purely Snape. He shrugged, thinking back to their slightly awkward conversation the month before. Severus had assured him he would never sleep with someone so repeatedly just for the sex, which Harry assumed was the closest he'd ever get to Severus admitting to going steady. Especially with someone like him. He also knew that Snape was not one to stay just for the sake of staying. He didn't tend to spare other people's feelings.

"Your friends are probably going to think I've killed you," he said flatly, tidying the papers that had fallen from his desk as Harry picked up his school robes.

"They'd believe that before they believed this," he murmured in response, waving vaguely between them as he fastened his cloak around his shoulders.

Snape nodded once, unable to disagree with the younger man. He walked over to Harry. "You are inside out," he murmured, playing with the edge of his collar. "Honestly, you can't even dress yourself properly," he brushed his cloak down along his shoulders, hands hesitating as they sat on Harry's shoulders. He leaned in and kissed him once more, moving to cup his chin with his hand.

Harry sighed slightly as he pulled away, following him to the door. "When will I see you again?" He asked, hating how forlorn he sounded even to his own ears.

Snape, surprisingly, didn't comment on his tone. "I assure you class on Thursday is not cancelled," he drawled, the hint of a smirk playing along his lips.

Harry scowled, glaring slightly. "You know what I mean, you ass," he rolled his eyes.

"Detention. Saturday night," he held a finger up to Harry's lips to stop his protests. Harry darted his tongue out and licked it, not missing the way the onyx eyes flashed. "And Sunday," he added, "For calling me an ass,"

"But Saturday's the game!" Harry whined, "We're having a party in the common room Saturday night, and I'm the Captain, I can't-"

"Potter." Snape interrupted him with a quizzical glance. "You haven't won yet,"

"Well, yeah I know, but it's Hufflepuff, I mean we've got it in the bag, and their Seeker? He can't even dive properly without nearly falling off his broom. How they expect him to ever catch the Sni-"

The index finger was back, effectively ending his Quidditch rant. "I guarantee to make it up to you _should _you win the game," Snape purred, an actual smirk gracing his features. Harry glared, knowing he had lost this one and not exactly unhappy anymore about missing the common room party. There would be more.

"Now go on, run along to your little friends and tell them how wickedly cruel and unfair I am," he opened the door, ushering Harry out. Harry stuck his tongue out at him as he left, before planting an unhappy glare and a pout on his face as he made his way back up to the Great Hall.

He could see a number of students around the lake, meaning he had nearly missed lunch completely. He took a deep breath, preparing himself to go back to hating the greasy haired potions master. _His hair is actually very soft, _he mused to himself as he walked. He shook the thought away as he spotted Ron and Hermione, waving him over a little less enthusiastically than normal once they took in his face.

"That man," he fumed, proud of his ability to convince his friends nothing had changed. It hadn't been that hard after all. Him and Snape might have found a way to get along - to put it lightly - but that didn't mean he loved every aspect of his being. There were still a lot of things he couldn't stand about the other man, he'd just decided they weren't as important anymore. If he focused on those things, he was usually able to muster up enough legitimate annoyance. "Is the biggest git I have ever met," he finished, slamming himself down onto the bench next to Hermione.

"What happened?" She asked delicately, not wanting to anger him further.

"He went on and on about how _incompetent _I am and how I don't deserve half of what I've been given," he fumed, finding it easier to go on once he got himself started. "Apparently I've never worked for anything a day in my life and scraping cauldrons after the game Saturday and then again on Sunday is the way to teach me my lesson," he dropped his head into his arms on the table.

"Sa'urday?" Ron asked, around a mouthful of potatoes.

"Honestly, Ronald," Hermione rolled her eyes at him as she wrapped a consoling arm around Harry.

"But that's the game! You're gonna miss the party and everything! You're the captain!" Ron cried, indignant.

"That's what I said. He doesn't care," he picked his head up and pulled a plate across the table towards himself and piled it high with roast chicken and vegetables. "Which is _not _surprising," he grumbled. "I just wish we were playing Slytherin so that I could wipe that smug smile off his face,"

Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile, rubbing his arm as he ate, all three waiting glumly for their next class to start.


	2. A Night Out

**A/N: Hey guys! So I had originally planned for more at least a little more plot action to happen in this chapter, but as I was writing it got to be about the length of the last one (and my OCD side likes to keep them all relatively the same) I decided to cut it short, so here you go!**

**As always, reviews are always welcome!**

**Enjoy!**

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"Sixteen inches on the effects of unskilled Animagus transformations, on my desk by the start of next class," McGonagall finished as they packed up their bags. "And I _won't _excuse for broken bones," she added, looking straight at Ron and Harry. Ron flushed slightly, Harry nodding once in understanding. They packed up the rest of their books and followed the last of the class out the door.

"Fly straight, boys," McGonagall murmured as they past, not looking up from the third year essays she was analyzing.

Harry smirked. "Thank you, Professor,"

The three made their way downstairs, angling themselves out the double doors and onto the grounds, finding a relatively quiet spot on the far side of the lake. Hermione pulled a soft blue blanket out of her seemingly never-ending school bag and laid it down on the grass. The three plopped heavily upon it, sighing as they finally relaxed.

"At least we have no more classes until the weekend's over," Harry said softly, resting his hands behind his head as he watched the clouds drift above them.

"And our homework's done," Hermione added brightly. "Well, besides Transfiguration," her voice had a touch of worry in it.

"Relax, 'Mione," Ron nudged her slightly with his elbow. "It's not due for a whole week,"

She huffed once but let it go, snuggling closer into his side and sighing.

"I think," Harry started, taking his glasses off and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "We should go out tonight to celebrate, since I can't tomorrow," He propped himself up on one elbow, looking over to Ron with an excited expression.

"Harry," Hermione cut him short. He could hear his impending disappointment in her tone. "You know you can't do that, the curfew is only eleven, and it's not even a Hogsmeade weekend. Plus, you've got to rest for the game tomorrow,"

Harry tsked, looking over at Ron, who was still smiling at the idea.

"Oh, come on. The game isn't even until two! And I've still got half a bottle of Hangover Remedy. We haven't pulled the cloak out in _ages. _We could stop by Snape's on our way and get some Pepper Up, too, after traipsing through the cold," he threw in, chuckling at the look on Hermione's face. The streets did tend to dip below freezing at night.

"You two do what you want," she rolled her eyes, deciding it was easier to give in that to fight with them. They were too stubborn anyway. "But count me out,"

"Charlie's home visiting, we get him," Ron mused, playing with a strand of Hermione's hair. "And Fred and George are always game,"

"A good old Weasley clan party," Harry grinned, laying back down on his back. "Sounds like just what I need. Maybe Fred and George can bring something for my detention," he muttered, thinking of all the products they sold and which one would plaster the best look of outrage on Severus' face. He chuckled to himself, closing his eyes as he enjoyed the way the sun felt on his face. The classes might be a lot harder, but it was worth their more leisurely schedule. Seventh years took only a handful of classes, with more time in between to get their studying and practical training done. Theoretically, at least.

A shadow obscured the sun for a moment and Harry opened one eye irritably. It wasn't supposed to rain again until Tuesday. It wasn't a passing cloud, however. He leaned up slightly, following the retreating back of the Potions Master as he made his way towards the edge of the forest.

"What is Snape doing out in the sunlight?" Ron asked moodily, laying back down with Hermione now that the sun was fully shining on them again. She shoved him half-heartedly, blushing slightly and whispering something about him hearing them.

"Probably collecting the ingredients for what he's going to poison me with tomorrow," Harry grumbled, still watching the black-clad figure. He could have sworn he heard a small snort from that direction.

xxxxx

"Ron, stop stomping," Harry chastised in a fierce whisper, leaning over the Marauder's Map as they made their way to the corner of the hallway. Ron grumbled, but adjusted his pace to be a little quieter. "Filch is down that way," he said, pointing to the dark corridor to the left, "So if we go this way we should make it to the statue fine," he finished, tapping the map with his wand and putting it in his back pocket. Ron nodded, pulling the cloak tighter about the two of them as Harry mentioned Filch.

"Mrs. Norris?" he asked, looking around them. Harry shook his head, leading him down the hallway to the statue of the one-eyed witch. Ron kept watch in the corridor as Harry slipped around to the back of the statue.

"_Dissendium_," he muttered, watching as the hump on her back gave way to expose the now familiar passageway. "Come on," he called softly, watching as Ron materialize as he pulled the cloak off and handed it back to Harry.

He climbed through the hole and slid down to the soft ground, lighting his wand again so that they could see. They began to make their way forward.

"Are they there already?" Harry asked, shrinking his cloak and stuffing it into his back pocket along with the map.

"Should be, yeah," Ron answered, looking around himself, slightly uneasy. "Are there...spiders down here?"

Harry laughed loudly, glad the passage to the castle had sealed itself behind them. "I'm sure, but just as many as in Hogwarts and you don't make that face on the way to class,"

Ron angled a glare at him, "Thanks, Harry," he rolled his eyes, again looking at the walls warily.

"Ron, you're fine. I'll kill all the spiders," Harry chuckled again as Ron nodded once. "Anyway, we're nearly there."

Harry could just see the light seeped through the cracks in the basement floorboards of Honeyduke's. He jumped up to grab the end of the ladder and pull it to the ground with a soft crack, waiting a few seconds for noises before ascending into the cellar.

"Come on," he whispered back down to Ron, holding out a hand to help him up. "I can hear him closing shop upstairs. Let's get out in case he comes down," Ron nodded silently, heading towards the stairs that led to the alley behind the sweet shop.

Once in the street, they relaxed. They'd worn plain robes devoid of their house crest so as not to draw attention to themselves, and they both kept their hoods up, pretending to ward off the chill as they hid Ron's flaming hair and Harry's scar.

They made their way quietly to the Three Broomsticks, they dropped their hoods, looking around for a friendly face. They weren't as afraid of being recognized here, the staff had a don't ask policy when it came to students, preferring to stay out of school business, which worked well for the students. It was a Friday night, and the bar was still busy despite the hour.

"Ayyyy!" They heard a few boisterously raised voices as they walked in and Harry looked around, spotting the three red heads easily among the crowd. He grinned at Ron, making his way towards the table and pulling up two more chairs.

"There they are," Fred started, smiling widely at the two as they sat down.

"They've finally graced us with their presence," George went on, elbowing his twin in the ribs.

"The Quidditch stars of Gryffindor Tower," Fred finished, laughing as he raised his glass in a mock toast.

"Cut it out, you two, they just got here," Charlie shushed them, although he was laughing himself. "Harry, how you been?" He asked, scooting his chair a little further from the twins as they pulled a rather suspicious looking pouch from the inside of their robes.

"Good!" He answered, watching them warily as they stuck their heads together. He shook his head, focusing instead on Charlie. There was no stopping the twins, after all. "Big game tomorrow we're gonna win, and then school's almost over," he shrugged, not having a whole lot to complain about for once.

"Ron didn't say anything about a _game_," Charlie mock pouted, slinging an arm around Ron's shoulder and pulling him in to muss up his hair. "Maybe I'll come watch, Dumbledore did invite me to sit with him, yunno," he winked at Harry, letting Ron go.

Ron ground his teeth. "Remind me why I invited you lot again?"

"Because Ickle Ronniekins loves and adores his big brothers," George stated, splashing the contents of his mug as he swung his arm.

"I need a drink. Harry?" Ron sighed, calling for a waitress.

"A butterbeer, thanks," Harry nodded, as Ron talked to the young witch.

"And a round of shots for the table!" Fred shouted, draining the last of his cup. Harry laughed. "Well, is this a party or not?" He waggled his eyebrows at Harry, who rolled his eyes slightly, laughing. He had missed this family, his family.

A few hours found them properly pissed and walking back down the street to Honeyduke's, singing _Do the Hippogriff_ louder than they probably should. They dissolved into fits of laughter as Fred hit a high note, causing him to choke and cough as his voice gave way.

"Been fun, mate," Charlie said, swaying slightly as he turned to Harry and pulled him into a tight hug.

"We'll hafta...again sometime," he nodded once solemnly, turning towards the twins and returning a wobbly salute before pulling his Invisibility Cloak over himself and Ron and making their way back into the cellar and through the trapdoor. They stumbled through the underground corridor, laughter bouncing off the dirt walls as they tripped and smudged their jeans.

Harry held a hand to his lips as they got to the castle, trying to focus on the impending darkness as he climbed through, looking for teachers. He waved Ron through, stifling a laugh as the gangly red head fell out of the hole and ended up in a twisted pile on the floor.

"Okay," he whispered, leaning into Ron as he stood. "You take the... Map and I'll take the Cloak," he started, squinting as he tried to arrange his thoughts coherently. "You go back to Gryff'dor Tower and I'll meet ya," he nodded, shoving the map into Ron's hand.

"Where're ya goin'?" The red head asked as he swayed dangerously.

"Dungeons," Harry answered solemnly, nodding. "Snape's...potion," he chuckled once as the words left his mouth.

Ron nodded, a dull spark of recognition in his eyes as he remembered Harry mentioning snagging some Pepper Up potion from Snape's stores.

"Alright, break," Harry cried, laughing as they moved away from each other. He threw the cloak around himself, hoping Ron could at least avoid people since he had the map.

He laid a hand against the wall on his left as he walked, trying to keep his steps steady. He stopped short in front of a suit of armor. "Sorry, sir," he murmured, slowly making his way around it, trying desperately not to run into it. He shook his head. He had drank more than he thought.

Somehow he made it to the dungeons without running into anyone, or anything for that matter, and he slowly opened the door to Snape's classroom, knowing his private stores branched off his office. He closed the door behind him, wincing as it creaked. He took his hood off, leaving the cloak wrapped around his shoulders as he opened the door to the teacher's private office and made his way to where he kept all his extra potions.

"Right, A,C,D,F...L,M," he muttered, fingers dancing along the alphabetized shelves as he looked for the right one. "Ah, P! Pepper Up," he smiled in triumph, pocketing the little bottle.

He turned on the spot, eager to get to his warm bed in the tower, and ran straight into a pajama-clad chest. "Shit," he whispered, barely audible even to his own ears as he staggered backward, swaying dangerously near the shelves of potions as he lost his balance. A strong hand grabbed his arm quickly, steering him away from the fragile bottles. He looked up into the slightly puzzled expression of the Potions Master, realizing he was effectively nothing more than a floating head. He giggled once despite himself.

"Sir," he hiccupped.

Snape raked his eyes over Harry, taking in his ruffled hair and pink cheeks, along with the slightly out of focus gaze now directed somewhere in the vicinity of his own eyes. "You're drunk," he said, amazed.

"Am not," Harry lied indignantly, hiccupping again and cursing slightly. "No booze in the castle, prof'ssor," he said logically, nodding.

"I don't believe you've been in the castle all night for a second," Severus replied coolly, taking the cloak from around Harry's shoulder and ignoring his cry of protest. "Come on," he hooked his hand underneath Harry's elbow and took him through yet another door, this time leading to his private rooms.

"Tea or Coffee?" he asked, laying the cloak over the back of a dark leather couch.

"Is't Irish?" Harry asked, grinning wickedly as he stumbled into the couch and sat down heavily, leaning his hand against the arm.

"No," Snape replied sharply, throwing him a glare. "Tea it is," he said briskly, walking away to the kitchen. "Out with Weasley, I suppose?" He called, setting out the kettle and grabbing two cups from the cupboard.

"Mmm," Harry hummed, suddenly in the kitchen with him and wrapping his arms around his waist from behind. He trailed sloppy kisses along the back of Snape's neck, working his way around to his jaw line and turning him in his arms so he could reach his lips.

"Hi," he breathed, grinning stupidly as he leaned in to kiss Snape full on the lips.

"Mmph," Snape protested after a second, pushing Harry from him. "No, Potter. We are not doing this while you are...in such a state," he waved at Harry's disheveled appearance, much to the dismay if the boy.

"Well, tha's no fair," he protested, trying to get a hold of Snape's waist again.

"I said _no,_" he argued, pointing back to the living room and smirking slightly despite himself as Harry's shoulders dropped and he made his way back to the couch. He laid down across the leather lazily, a foot dangling on the carpet as Snape watched, waiting for the kettle to heat up.

"If you get sick, I'll kick you out," he warned, leaning against the door frame.

Harry scoffed, waving the comment away as he rolled over, nearly falling off the couch. Snape rolled his eyes as the kettle whistled, leaving his vigil to go add the teabags and cool off the mugs, knowing full well that the brat would burn his mouth if he didn't.

"Here," he said, placing the less filled cup on the end table nearest to Harry's head. "Drink," he instructed, scratching lightly at the top of his head. Harry lifted his head, wiping at his bleary eyes behind his glasses as he sat up, leaning most of his body against the arm rest as he sipped at his tea. "Mmm," he hummed, playing with his tongue along the edge of his cup before setting it back down on the table with a harsh clink.

Snape winced slightly at the sound, keeping a careful eye on the other man as he slouched into the back of the sofa, mumbling quietly to himself as his eyes started to slide shut.

"Oh, no. No, no, no," Snape started, quickly placing his teacup next to Harry's as he pulled the other wizard to his feet. "You are not falling asleep on my couch, Potter. I'll escort you back to your dormitory and you can leave me out of your hangover," he chided, taking Harry by the arm and covering him with the cloak once more, before guiding him out into the hallway.

"I 's comfy," Harry whined, stumbling over his own feet, not missing the glare that Snape sent his way. He had a feeling the Invisibility Cloak wasn't working on Severus.

"Sh," Snape whispered harshly, holding a finger to his lips. "I refuse to have people thinking I am talking to myself," he said coldly, towing Harry along as they made their way upstairs. Harry grumbled but complied, secretly thankful Snape was there to help him.

They stopped outside the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry taking his cloak off once more. She tsked slightly but said nothing.

"I trust you can still remember the password?" Snape asked, turning to Harry. Harry scoffed, nodding once. "Good. Get some rest," He said, tone slightly softer than usual. He kissed the top of his head, then looked him in the eyes.

"And Harry?" Harry looked up at him, slightly surprised. He rarely addressed him by his first name. "Do try and win tomorrow," Some unnamed emotion was shining in the dark eyes, but before Harry could try and figure it out he was gone. "Double detention tomorrow," he called over his shoulder from the darkness.

"Hmph," he mused to himself, turning back to the portrait. "_Mimbulus Mimbletonia,_" Harry managed, feeling his head spin as the portrait swung forward on its hinges. He barely made it up to his four-poster, placing the small vial of Pepper Up on his nightstand before passing out, glasses on and fully clothed.


	3. A Worthy Celebration

**A/N: Hey guys! I actually got two out today so here's the second! No guarantees for tomorrow however, as I have class and a ton of homework and studying tomorrow and this weekend, though I'm sure I can get at least one or two chapters out this weekend. I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but I can't really pinpoint what's wrong with it so here it is.**

**Again, enjoy and please review!**

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Harry walked into the Great Hall the next morning to thunderous applause from the red headed section of the Gryffindor table. Apparently, the Weasleys had gone to the Headmaster and gotten permission to spend the day in the castle and watch the game later. Harry winced, damning Ron for taking the potions with him this morning when he had gotten up.

He sat down heavily, leveling Ron with a glare. "Potions," he stated flatly, voice hoarse from his poor sleep the night before. Ron flushed slightly, mumbling a 'Sorry, mate' as he handed them over. Harry quickly downed both vials, laying his head down on the table in relief as the pounding subsided. "What even happened last night?" He asked as he looked up, grinning ruefully as Hermione tsked. "I don't remember much after leaving the Three Broomsticks,"

"I think you got the Potions," Ron started, scratching his chin as he thought, "And we just sort of passed out," he laughed.

"Hmph," Harry thought it over, looking up at the Head Table as Ron mentioned grabbing the bottles. There was only one place he would've gone for them, after all. He met the black gaze directly, finding Snape already with his eyes trained on Harry. He raised a single eyebrow and Harry blushed slightly, wondering just how much of a fool of himself he'd made the night before. Snape returned his gaze to McGonagall, who he seemed to be in some sort of argument with.

"Honestly, the trouble you two risked," Hermione chided, pushing the eggs around her plate lightly. "And you three, you're no better yourselves," she turned towards the twins and Charlie, who all feigned indignant looks mixed with a hint of innocence. They all shrugged, hiding chuckles as Ginny joined them.

"Ready for the game?" She asked, looking thoroughly over Harry and Ron as she nodded to her three other brothers. Harry nodded, Ron rolling his eyes.

"All you care about anymore is Quidditch," he complained.

"Not true," she argued, going slightly red in the face. "I just don't want to lose against Hufflepuff because you two idiots went and got pissed last night,"

Hermione smiled smugly, glad to have at least one other person who wasn't celebrating their 'achievement'.

"We'll be fine, Ginny. Look, completely sober," Harry waved at himself vaguely, scooping a forkful of potatoes into his mouth. "Jus' a lil' hungry, s'all," he managed, giving her a thumbs up. She rolled her eyes before turning to the twins and asking them about the joke shop.

They finished their brunch and walked around the lake for a bit, Harry using it as an excuse to get a feel for the weather, and how strong the wind might be when they got up in the air. It actually seemed pretty perfect. Barely a breeze to ruffle their hair, and the summer heat had given way to a cool autumn afternoon. He smiled broadly to himself as Ron, Ginny and himself left the group to make their way down to the stadium.

The rest of the team was scattered around the locker room already, lazily getting their things together and joking about how they thought the Hufflepuffs would mess up this time.

"Alright guys, game's in half an hour," Harry stated as he walked in, straightening up as he took on his Captain-of-the-team tone. "Now, we all know we're gonna win, but let's not let it get to our heads and mess up, alright? We'll never live it down," he shuddered at the thought, chuckling along with the rest of his team.

"Beaters, I don't want them to have a chance to even think about hitting one of those Bludgers, got it? Keep them on lock down," he instructed the two boys, who saluted and went off to change.

"Ron, you know what to do. Don't let any through that can be helped, and by that I mean none. Just like in practice," he patted his friends back, knowing he could do it once he got a hold of his nerves.

"As for my chasers," he said, smiling as he looked at them each in turn. He chuckled as Ginny gave him a wink. "I don't even have to tell you guys, I've never seen a better trio at Hogwarts. Just do it like you always do,"

They all dissolved into their different locker rooms, pulling on their pads and Quidditch robes. The time was lost faster than Harry would have liked, and suddenly they were standing by the doors, waiting for the announcer to call the Gryffindor team out.

"For Gryffindor," Harry cried as the doors opened.

"For Gryffindor!" They all echoed, mounting their brooms and taking to the air amidst the thunderous applause. Harry made a quick loop of the field, showing off a bit before the balls were released. He zoomed by the teacher's stand, corkscrewing his way back to the middle of the field and grinning as he glanced back at the dour expression aimed his way.

The whistle blew and the time for tricks was over. He kept an eye on the Hufflepuff seeker, but he wasn't all that worried about the small boy. He wasn't even really built to be a good seeker. He was too broad shouldered, it would weigh him down, especially when pitted against Harry and his Firebolt. He couldn't help himself from circling the boy once, whether showing off or trying to prove the pointlessness of trying to beat him to the snitch, he couldn't say, but the look on his face was worth it either way.

He watched as Ginny dodged two of their chasers, sinking the Quaffle easily into the goal post. Harry cheered with the crowd, doing a quick victory lap around the stadium before resuming his post.

A half hour later, and three goals for Gryffindor, he watched as the other seeker sped off in the opposite direction, and Harry followed, quickly edging up to him. He searched the sky around them, but saw nothing. Rolling his eyes at just how bad the other boy managed to be at this, he rolled into a dive, hoping the Hufflepuff would follow him. Might as well have a little fun while they were at it, right? He grinned when the other seeker followed him, now the competition began. Harry had yet to come across a seeker that didn't pull out of a dive before he did, and this time proved to be no different. He tsked slightly, laughing as he caught Ron's gaze.

After another hour -when the score was at 100 to 40 in favor of the lions- he saw it. The snitch was slaloming between the two yellow-clad beaters. He shot off in their direction, scaring them both into breaking their course. He paid them no mind, however, as he followed the tiny golden ball. He vaguely heard the Hufflepuff captain shouting "Get after him, you idiot! What are you doing?" but he drowned out all noise. There was nothing left but him and the small white wings in front of him. He angled toward the snitch as it dropped in altitude, thanking whatever god there was that it forced them both into a dive. There was no way he would lose.

He evened his broom out near the ground, reaching a hand out in front of him. Almost there, just a little short. And suddenly, it was there, in his hand. He closed his fingers around it, zooming straight up to the middle of the pitch, fist raised high in the air as the whistle blew and signaled the end of the game. The team was upon him them, a great huddle in the air, and they were all laughing and shouting as they landed as one, jumping and celebrating as they walked toward their locker room.

The Hufflepuffs had already cleared the field, seeing no reason to stay and linger in their defeat (although Harry secretly thought that they should be used to it by now, the poor sods). He looked once over his shoulder at the teacher's stands, sending a smirk. He knew how Severus hated it when Harry's cockiness proved to be rightfully placed. He grinned as he walked into the shouts and cries of the locker room.

xxxxx

Harry shoved his hands into his pockets as he made his way down to the dungeons. Even though he knew it wasn't a _real _detention, quite the opposite really, that hadn't made it any easier to leave the common room. The party had just gotten into full swing when the clock chimed quarter to seven and he had to excuse himself to make his way down to the dungeons.

He had been careful not to touch the butterbeer or firewhiskey Ginny and Dean had nicked from Hogsmeade for the weekend, the last thing he needed was for Snape to smell even more alcohol on his breath after the night before.

He knocked three times on the door to the classroom. The door opened on its own and he entered to see Snape sitting at his desk, not a single dirty cauldron set up in the room. Harry grinned despite himself, he'd known he wouldn't _actually _be scrubbing dirty cauldrons, but who could really be one hundred percent sure with Snape?

"Sir," he said quietly in greeting.

"Congratulations on the game, Potter," came the reply as Snape swept up from his desk and stood facing him.

"Thank you, sir," he nodded, unable to fight the grin that blossomed onto his face. "But I do believe I told you that we would,"

Snape sneered slightly, unable to help himself. "Yes, well," he said briskly ushering Harry towards his office and then through to his private rooms. Harry followed excitedly, they didn't spend all that much time together in his rooms, usually sex and then sleeping. But tonight they had a few hours to kill, and Harry had nowhere to be. In fact, due to his 'double detention' for being found completely pissed, the other students wouldn't think anything of him not coming back until well after they had passed out. Harry was fairly certain it would be easy to explain away him coming back any time tomorrow in fact, as they were probably not going to get up at any reasonable time.

"Thanks," he murmured as Snape held the door to his rooms open for him. He tapped Harry's bum softly as he went by, eliciting a small chuckle. "Oh, do behave," Harry said jokingly, batting his eyelashes.

Snape snorted. "Really?"

Harry simply shrugged, walking over to the couch and making himself comfortable. He could smell something delicious in the kitchen.

"Are you cooking?" He asked incredulously.

"I do need to eat, contrary to popular belief," Snape answered, settling on the armchair across from him. "Cooking is very similar to brewing, besides," he continued, waving away Harry's surprise.

"I see," Harry answered, eyeing him up. "You know, they have House Elves for that,"

"I am aware." Snape answered shortly, rolling his eyes. "However, it's not entirely the same. And I did tell you I would make it worth skipping your little..._celebrations,_ did I not?"

Harry nodded silently, swallowing once. Snape was cooking for him? He really must be dreaming.

"Granted, after your little party last night I doubt you really needed another,"

Harry blushed. He figured it would come up at some point.

"Yeah, I...what, exactly did I, er, do?" He blushed even deeper at the look of amusement that overtook Severus' features.

"You don't remember?" He asked wickedly, leaning forward in his chair and uncrossing his legs. Harry pouted, glaring at him half-heartedly as he shook his head.

"You stole my potions, rather loudly may I add, and then tried to grope me in my kitchen while I was making you tea," he said very matter-of-factly. Harry took a deep breath, but Snape went on, "All before your grand finale of thinking it was allowed to fall asleep drunk on my sofa," he drawled, leaning back again in his chair and surveying the blush in Harry's cheeks.

"Good night," he joked meekly. Snape simply raised an eyebrow but said nothing more on the subject. Harry bit his lip, but thankfully their came a soft chime from the kitchen.

"Do try not to mess anything up out here," Snape said smoothly as he glided to the kitchen. Harry pulled a face at his retreating back, but said nothing in defense. He sat quietly as he waited for him to come back.

"It's nothing fancy," Snape stated as he handed a steaming bowl to Harry. He took it gratefully, inhaling deeply as he did so. It smelled deliciously spicy, a perfect mix of herbs and god only knew what else. He started in, making an appreciative noise in the back of his throat as he swallowed.

"This is delicious," he told Snape, who simply nodded in acknowledgement as he continued eating.

Harry finished before Severus, who was surveying him curiously over the top of his bowl.

"What?" he finally asked, when he was completely unable to read Snape's eyes.

"Were you a virgin?" He asked suddenly, putting his bowl down on the table beside him before retrieving his wand and banishing them both to the kitchen.

"I...what? No, I...no," Harry said, slightly taken aback.

Snape drew his eyebrows together. "Chang?"

"W-what?" Harry stuttered, "No, I- never with a girl," he admitted, blushing slightly at the turn in conversation. Granted, Snape knew him in ways almost no one else did, but that didn't mean they had to _discuss _it.

"Hm," he seemed to be thinking hard. "Weasley." he said definitively, nodding once at his own conclusion.

"Ron?" Harry cried, "God no. No, no, no," he shook his head, trying to get the image out of his brain.

"Not Ron," Snape rolled his eyes, as if it were obvious. "The older one, Charles?"

"Oh. Charlie?"

"Yes, Charlie."

"I...yeah, he was my- my first, but, Ron doesn't even know, it just kind of...happened," Harry trailed off, feeling stupid. He rallied quickly however, as a thought struck him. "How the hell do _you _know that?"

"I saw it," he said simply.

"You...what?" Harry asked, dumbfounded.

"Don't be daft, Potter. I could see it in the way you two acted around each other this morning in the Great Hall," he explained, leaning forward and taking Harry's hand gently in his own, stroking his long fingers down his forearm and back to his palm. Harry found it very distracting.

"Yeah, well. Does it matter?"

"Not really, no. I couldn't help but feel a pang of...jealousy, however," Snape admitted without looking at him.

"You? Jealous of Charlie Weasley?" Harry laughed. "Are you serious right now?"

"Very," Snape assured him, finally meeting his gaze. His eyes were dark, thunderous. He was deadly serious. "I am a very jealous being, Potter. To think of him...with you," he sneered, shaking his head. Harry couldn't believe he was hearing all this. And from the looks of it, Snape couldn't really believe he had spoken it. Out loud, at least.

"You have nothing to be jealous of, you old sod," Harry smiled, getting up and climbing into his lap.

"Hmm," Severus hummed, leaning his head on Harry's shoulder as they sat. Harry played with the ends of his hair, toying with them between his fingers as Snape nuzzled slightly into his neck. He sighed happily, but all too soon Snape nudged him off his lap, standing up and disappearing into the kitchen again. Harry pouted, but then Snape was back, holding another bowl in his hands.

Harry raised an eyebrow as he was handed it, and he looked down. Chocolate ice cream.

"I've noticed you tend to eat it most nights at dinner," Snape said coolly. How he managed to make kind gestures sound so offhand and commonplace still amazed Harry.

He smirked, an idea occurring to him suddenly. He stood, making his way to the bedroom with his ice cream and setting it softly on the nightstand.

"Potter," Snape called, "Exactly what are you doing?"

Severus made his way into the bedroom after the boy, the rest of his snide remarks dying on his lips as he saw Harry slowly divesting himself of his shirt.

"Shh," he said quietly, walking up to Snape and leisurely trailing his fingers down his torso until they came upon the hem of his shirt. He lifted it gently, waiting for Snape to lift his arms so that Harry could fully remove it. He look down apprehensively at the boy, not one for giving up control.

Harry led him slowly back towards the bed, kissing him gently, moving down his jaw and neck until his knees hit the bed frame. A gentle had pushed his chest, lowering him onto the bed. They crawled up to the pillows, all the while Harry gently kissing Snape's chest, leaving small red love marks in his wake, before he grabbed the bowl from the side of the bed.

"Potter," Snape warned softly, but Harry simply shushed him again as he took the spoon and fed the ice cream to Severus. He didn't protest as it hit his lips, black gaze never leaving Harry's green one. He watched as the boy took a spoonful for himself, leaning down to kiss Snape full on the lips. Snape sighed softly, the mix of heat and cold as delicious as the taste of chocolate and Harry.

Harry smirked as he felt Snape harden against him, smearing chocolate in a trail down his chest before putting the bowl back on the table. He licked and kissed it off as he made his way towards Snape's waist line, reveling in every uncontrolled twitch and shudder of the body beneath him. He licked a line along the waist band of his pants, gently flicking open the button with his finger and easing the fly down. He slid his pants down slowly, letting his fingers trail down the soft skin underneath before climbing back up and pressing himself against Snape, kissing him fiercely.

Snape wrapped his arms tightly around Harry, flipping them both over and pinning Harry beneath him. He bent to bite at his neck, growling slightly. Harry moaned softly as his erection grew, straining somewhat painfully against his jeans. Severus grinned wickedly as he reached for the bowl of ice cream, smearing it all over Harry's body. He gasped at the cold, and then again at the heat of Snape's tongue as he cleaned it off of him. He removed Harry's jeans quickly, pulling his boxers with them, rolling his eyes slightly at the red and gold stripes which adorned them.

"Turn over," he growled in Harry's ear, grazing his teeth along his earlobe. Harry shuddered but followed his instructions, groaning quietly as his cock rubbed along the sheets. He felt the cool of the ice cream pool just above his butt, in the dip at the base of his spine as well as along it. He made an impatient sound in the back of his throat as Severus worked his mouth along the chocolaty trail, wrapping an arm around his middle and toying with his hard prick. Harry growled low in his throat and turned over quickly, not caring anymore about following Snape's instructions.

The flash in the onyx eyes sent a heat straight to his stomach, and Severus bent to kiss him as he trailed a finger back down his chest to wrap around his cock. He stroked him leisurely, and then his mouth was trailing where his fingers had been, and replaced his hand on his dick. Harry cried out, bucking into Snape's hand.

He was breathing heavily as Snape took him in his mouth, the heat and tightness overwhelming his senses as he scrabbled desperately at his long hair, one hand pitted against his shoulder as he moved. Snape let go, the hint of a grin pulling at his lips as he moved his attentions lower, to Harry's tight ring. Harry moaned loudly as he shoved his tongue around his opening, darting in once before being replaced with methodical fingers. Harry let him this time, enjoying the building intensity until he almost couldn't take it anymore.

Snape finally raised himself onto his knees, pulling Harry roughly by the hips and lining himself up before he pushed into him roughly, holding one hand around his middle as he thrust. Harry scratched his hands down Snape's chest, strangely satisfied with the little red marks he left trailing down his body. His mark, his Snape. He bucked into the other man's movements, and pulled him down against him for a fiery kiss as they moved. Snape bit his collar bone once, leaving a love bite in his wake before kissing it gently as he slowed his movements excruciatingly.

He thrust lazily into Harry, resuming his slow stroking of Harry's stiff cock. Harry moaned into the side of his face, kissing his temple sloppily as he tried to wiggle his way into making Snape move faster again. He could feel his climax building, and this pace had become almost painfully pleasurable. Snape chuckled once breathlessly, sucking on one of Harry's nipples.

"Tell me," he said, slamming hard into him once before resuming his slow pace.

"What?" Harry asked breathlessly, completely thrown off guard as he tried to understand what exactly was being asked of him.

"Tell me," Snape repeated, grunting as he slammed into him again. "I know how you feel but I want to hear you _say _it," he breathed, ducking down close to Harry's ear.

"I..." he fumbled for words, knowing what Snape was asking for. Was he ready to admit it, however? Right at this moment, he figured he would do anything for Snape to just start moving again.

"_Say it,_" Snape growled, thrusting hard once more into him before coming to a stop and meeting his eyes.

"I...I love you," Harry whispered, meeting his eyes. Something flickered behind the black eyes, something Harry had never seen before and he resumed his pace, pumping Harry with strong hands.

Severus came, groaning as he let loose inside Harry, and the moans falling softly from Snape's lips sent him over the edge, until his moans were mixed with Severus' and they rode out their waves of ecstasy together. Snape shuddered once, falling onto Harry for a moment before he rolled to the side and wiped his forehead. He looked sideways at Harry, eyes travelling down to the mess they'd made, and he chuckled once before uttering a cleansing spell.

Harry was breathing heavily, and he closed his eyes as he let himself enjoy the feeling. An arm wrapped itself around his waist lazily, drawing him closer. He cuddled into Snape's chest, taking advantage of it while he could. Severus wasn't usually one to cuddle much, so Harry took the opportunity whenever it arose. He laid his head on Snape's shoulder and sighed happily, which turned into a yawn. He took his glasses off and rolled slightly to place them on the end table before returning to Snape and entangling himself within the other and hummed.

"Are you staying?" came the sleepy murmur. Harry chuckled as he heard Snape attempt his usual level of snark, but didn't come close in his post-sex state.

"Mm," Harry agreed, settling himself in against the other man.

"Glad it's not me who has to explain myself in the morning," Snape replied, tightening his arms slightly.

"Easy," Harry muttered, already half-asleep. He felt the low chuckle rumble through Snape's chest more than he heard it, but then they were both asleep, a tangle of limbs on the dark sheets.


	4. The Smell of Blood

**A/N: Sorry if you got a few emails about new chapters being posted, there's only one today. I wanted to add something and hit the wrong button and got confused and ended up having to reupload chapters 2 and 3, but the only difference to them is one sentence near the end of chapter two, where Severus makes his detention on Saturday a double, as I had forgotten to include it before... so again, sorry!**

**Anyway this ****_is _****the new chapter, so please, as always enjoy and please review!**

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Severus ate silently at the Head Table the next morning, something that was not unusual for him. He had left Harry in bed that morning, and he could see now that the boy had been correct in not needing to worry about explaining to his friends where he had been the night before, as none of them had made it to the Great Hall for breakfast. He glared at the rest of the hall for good measure, stabbing at the pile of eggs on his plate.

"Particularly unhappy this morning, Severus?" Commented the man on his left, the exceptionally obnoxious new Transfiguration teacher, Marius Petwilde. He sighed, wishing for the umpteenth time that McGonagall had not decided to retire after the war and leave him with this headache.

"No," he answered shortly, not taking his eyes off his food. Petwilde had made a few less-than-subtle passes at Severus in the short time he'd been here and Snape had yet to figure out his motives. He was an attractive man, if a bit big-headed, and could no doubt acquire any man he pleased. Furthermore, Snape's denial seemed to only spur him on.

He could feel the other man's gaze still on him and he rolled his eyes. "Give it up, Marius." He snarled, wiping delicately at the edge of his mouth with his napkin before taking a sip of pumpkin juice. He heard a disgruntled sigh and the sharp clanging of metal as the transfiguration teacher attacked his breakfast in his frustration. Snape chuckled once, muttered a derogatory 'charming' under his breath before excusing himself, nodding once as he passed behind the Headmaster's chair.

He tucked his cloak tightly around him as he moved through the corridors, managing to scare a few first years on the way as they passed. He stopped by the Infirmary to drop off a handful of potions Poppy had requested he brew before making his way back down to the dungeons. He was half-surprised when he hadn't shown up at breakfast, the younger man wasn't one to skip meals and he had snuck out of the dungeons many times before without ever being caught. Had he really ended up being that exhausted last night? Or was he waiting in Severus' rooms with a surprise he deemed 'clever'? Snape himself was hoping against the latter, not taking a liking to surprises, especially not after all his years in service to Voldemort.

He sighed slightly as he approached the tapestry that hid the door to his private quarters. He murmured the password, watching the tapestry sink into the wall to reveal a brass handle. He paused with his hand outstretched, his stomach twisting strangely. Something felt wrong, although he couldn't exactly put a finger to it. His experience as a spy had lent him an uncanny ability to gauge when something wasn't right, and he had learned to trust his instincts and right now his instincts were telling him that not all was as he had left it that morning.

He shook his head. "Nonsense," he mumbled, thinking maybe Albus had been right when he had told him his paranoia was only getting worse with age.

As soon as he opened the door, however, he knew he had not been paranoid.

"What-" he started, feeling as if his breath had been knocked out of him as he took in the room before him. His couch was upturned, a giant slash exposing the stuffing beneath the leather, with deep scorch marks in circles around it on the wooden floor. The pictures were shattered from their collision with the floor after being blown off the walls. He could see in the door to his office; papers strewn on the floor, books torn from their covers and tossed haphazardly around the small room. Potion bottles were smashed in his private stores, strange vapors rising from where they mixed on the floor, and a small spark threatening to ignite the bookcase by where it had fallen. Their drinks from the night before lay in puddles beneath tipped and shattered glasses, and the door to his bedroom had claw marks all down the front. His bedroom.

"Harry," he breathed, as his thoughts caught up to him, hitting his conscious like a brick. He staggered toward the bedroom, hand shaking slightly as he touched the warm metal of the handle. That wasn't right, it was supposed to be cool. He swallowed hard as he tried to steady himself. No use panicking, whatever lay on the other side of the door wouldn't change because he willed it to. He might as well be calm, that way he could handle it the best way possible. His rationalizing only helped him so much and he cursed himself, not being this out of control of his own emotions since he had been a school boy.

"Fucking Potters.." he mumbled, finally opening the door to the bedroom. The smell of blood hit him before he even saw it. The raw coppery smell assaulted his sensitive nose, making his stomach twist painfully. "Oh, god," he whispered, looking around at what was left of his room. The fireplace had been blown apart, cutting off any easy escape from the room, and the drapes around his bed hung in tatters. But none of it mattered when he took in the pale form laying across what had once been light grey sheets.

Harry was in the middle of the bed, laying stark naked in a contorted heap of limbs, covered in more blood than Snape thought was possible. He had deep blossoming bruises all over his body, in the shape of hands around his throat and hips. His glasses were snapped in half and shattered at the foot of the bed, and he was sporting two black eyes and a bloody lip. His legs were twisted at strange angles and his wrist looked far more bumpy than normal.

His breathing was rapid and shallow, punctuated every few breaths by a whimper of pain. He was unconscious, and Snape was thankful for that small mercy, that at least he didn't have to be awake to suffer this excruciating pain. He ground his teeth as he approached the bed, trying to control the waves of anger and panic radiating off of him. They would pay, whoever they were, he would kill them for this. But first he had to take care of the boy in front of him.

His eyes honed in on Harry's left forearm, sitting in a particularly large puddle of crimson blood where it lay on the sheet. He lifted his arm, inspecting the inside. His stomach dropped and he snarled. There, just below his wrist, was a perfect replica of the mark that adorned his own skin in the same spot. Except this one had been cut into the flesh, red instead of black. He was scarred, the savior of the wizarding world now bore the same Dark Mark as those who had wished to see it fall.

He wrapped Harry loosely in the sheet and picked him up, holding him gently against his chest as he rushed from his rooms. His progress was slower than he would have liked, but he wasn't willing to jostle the figure in his arms anymore than he could help. Thankful that most of the school was either still in the Great Hall or had decided to spend their Sunday morning outside the castle walls, he ran into only a few students, glaring at them as he passed, daring them to tell their friends. He was sure the story about the Potions Professor brutally maiming his most hated student would be circulated by that evening. He didn't care.

He blasted open the door to the hospital wing, breathing heavily as he looked wildly around for Madame Pomfrey.

"Poppy?" he called, looking worriedly down at Harry as his breathing became even more labored. "Poppy!" he yelled, cursing.

"Coming, coming," she answered, sounding slightly ruffled and annoyed. One glance at her visitor, however, and her face had gone completely white. She pointed to a bed on her right, and Snape quickly made his way over to it, dropping Harry onto the white sheets delicately.

"I just found him, he...it must have been.." he trailed off, meeting her gaze. She nodded once in understanding. There was only one group of people that could be responsible for this.

"I'll start cataloging his injuries and getting him a potion for the pain," she started, snapping into her work mode. "You go call Dumbledore from the fireplace in my office,"

Snape nodded, hesitant to leave the bedside but knowing she was right. She would be able to help him more than he could now, anyway.

"Ah, Severus, my boy!" Albus greeted him enthusiastically, popping a lemon drop into his mouth and smiling widely at the head in his fireplace. "Was I expecting you?"

"No, Headmaster, but you must come quickly," he watched the twinkle in the old man's eyes fade to confusion, and then concern. "The Infirmary. It's Harry."

"I'll be right through,"

He ended the firecall, pacing impatiently in the few seconds he waited for Dumbledore to step through.

"He's over here," he said when the Headmaster appeared, taking off at once back into the Hospital Wing and showing Albus to the boy's bed.

"Oh, my," Dumbledore said softly, taking in the still form on the bed. "Draw the curtains, Poppy, I'm sure Severus turned quite a few heads on his way over here,"

The nurse nodded, shutting them off from the rest of the Hospital Wing should anyone come to ask questions. Snape muttered a wandless silencing charm for good measure.

Once they were safe from prying eyes, Severus sank into the chair next to Harry's bed, dropping his head into his hands and breathing heavily, trying to take in all that was happening.

"Severus, where did you find him?"

He looked up at Albus, eyes darting once to Poppy as he licked his lips. This was not a conversation he wanted to have, and he especially didn't want to have it here, in front of Madame Pomfrey.

"Poppy, I'll put a stasis charm on the boy so you can go collect the needed potions. I'd rather see him out of his pain first," he said quietly, motioning to the other side of the room.

"I have stronger ones in the dungeons. Reserved in case of emergencies for NEWT students, they're in the cupboard in the corner of the classroom," Snape said, matching Dumbledore's soft tone. Poppy nodded, realizing there was more to it than simply needing the potions and she left without arguing.

Snape sighed as Dumbledore's gaze returned to him. "He was...in my rooms, Albus," he said, looking down at his lap. He didn't want to disappoint Dumbledore; apart from Potter he was the only person whose opinion mattered, though he would never tell either man that.

"Severus," Albus said softly, and Snape knew he was waiting for a proper answer, a full answer.

"He was in my private rooms...my bedroom," he expanded, taking a deep breath before meeting Albus' blue gaze. "We had been together last night, and I let him sleep while I went to get breakfast,"

"Ah, I see,"

"We..."

"I understand," he held up a hand, halting any more explanations from Snape, who sighed gratefully. He didn't want to have to spell it out for him.

"Harry is of age, I have no reason to stop the two of you," Dumbledore added, conjuring a purple armchair for himself.

Snape nodded, knowing he was right but also thankful that he hadn't launched into a lecture. Although, he mused, now would not be the time for that anyway. He might not be completely safe. He pushed it to the back of his mind. He would deal with whatever Albus wanted to throw at him once Harry was well again, and he had gotten his revenge. Not a second before.

"Do you know who it was?"

"Look at his left arm," Snape said shortly, looking away as Dumbledore made a grab for the boy's wrist. He didn't need to see it again.

"Ah," The small sound was quiet, and indescribably sad.

They had both known that there was a small band of Death Eaters that had escaped capture after the fall of the Dark Lord, but they hadn't been seen or heard of since the night he had been destroyed. The Ministry had been unable to track them and it was assumed they had fled the country and gone into hiding. Severus had made sure to know exactly who they were, and he was glad now for his so-called 'paranoia'.

"Dolohov, Rowle, Greyback," he hadn't known before the fate of the wolf, but the scratch marks in the door and walls had been unmistakable, "Gibbon and Macnair,"

Dumbledore nodded, not surprised that Severus had made it a priority to know who had escaped. They had not been too happy with him after the war.

"Rowle and Gibbon will be easy," Snape muttered, mostly to himself as he started formulating a plan to seek them out. "Dolohov was in Surrey, too stubborn to leave I'd wager. Macnair was last seen in Kent...go there first. But it's Greyback who's the problem," he trailed off, running a hand through his hair.

"Severus, dear boy, surely you aren't planning on going after a gang of five former Death Eaters?" Snape sneered. "Think about it, I implore you. Three were among the most notorious Voldemort every acquired, and it is guaranteed all five wouldn't hesitate to kill you on sight,"

"Then I'll make sure they don't see me," he said coolly, not doubting his ability to do so in the slightest. "And do you think I wouldn't hesitate to do the same?" He asked vehemently, sparing a glance at Harry as he talked. He grabbed the pale hand in his, squeezing it once before he stood. "Let Poppy know she is welcome to use any of my potions or ingredients. I trust you can find a suitable replacement for my classes,"

"You're leaving now? Severus please, be reasonable-"

"Albus." He met the man's gaze evenly, "I have to. The longer I wait, the more danger they pose to all of us, you know that," Now that they'd finally attacked again, tasted blood, they'd only want more. "I expect you to send a patronus should his state change." He looked once at Harry. "I mean it, Albus. He so much as twitches I want to know," He stared hard at the man, who nodded once, eyes solemn behind his half moon spectacles as he watched the other man disapparate.

"Best of luck to you, my boy," he said quietly, sighing once as he heard Poppy open the door. "Best of luck,"


	5. The Hunt Begins

**A/N: Sorry it took a little longer than usual, but I have a few tests this week and I have to clean and pack so I can get outta here when I want to next week, but I'll try to keep updating through the weekend.**

**Enjoy**

* * *

Snape stood on a small hilltop, his robes snapping in the wind as they billowed around him furiously. He drew them closer around himself subconsciously to ward off the chill as he stared at the house perched in the distance. The Macnair Estate. It had once been a grand mansion, but he could see even from his vantage still some miles away, that it had lost its luster through the years. No doubt abandoned by his family, as they refused to join him in the Dark Lord's ranks.

Severus shook himself, starting in on the trek over to the house. He didn't want to risk apparating too close to the mansion, lest they have extensive wards set up to warn them of outsiders, which he doubted knowing Macnair, but at this point he would rather be safe than sorry. He had promised himself before leaving that he would make it back to Harry. He thrust his hands into his pockets as he walked, mulling over what he had planned to do.

He had the upper hand, that much he was sure of. He had always been a better wizard than most of the other Death Eaters, and none had the extensive knowledge of the more complex spellwork that Severus had. He had no doubts about being able to take down the four death eaters, but he hesitated where Greyback was concerned. He would have to take advantage of the element of surprise, he had decided, since the werewolf had heightened senses. He would most certainly be looking out for Severus after he took care of the other four. He grunted. Maybe he should focus on Greyback second, then.

He glanced overhead as he heard ravens crowing loudly. They flew past him and toward the mansion, but skirted around it before they got too close before continuing on in the same direction. "Even the birds avoid you," he muttered to himself.

He slowed his pace as he felt the first tingles of magic in the air, pulling out his wand and crouching closer to the ground. He muttered a few lines in latin, revealing the wards Macnair had placed around the house without drawing the Death Eater's attention. He chuckled once. "So simple," he chastised, dismantling them easily with a few more words.

He waited a few minutes to see if Macnair had realized but no movement came from the house. He glanced back at the brick walls. The majority of the house was dark, save for a light on the second floor.

He pulled Harry's Invisibility Cloak from his pocket, still slightly guilty about taking it in the first place. He shook his head. Just one more reason to make it back. He threw it around him, marveling slightly at the light material. This cloak really was different from the other Invisibility Cloaks. He sneered into the darkness, loathe to admit he had started to believe in the Hallows. It had become impossible to deny anymore.

He walked swiftly towards the heavy double front doors, snarling slightly as they creaked when he pushed them open. The foyer was dark, but he didn't dare light up his wand. He made his way carefully through to the main hallway, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the dark. He had been in the house before, for meetings. Voldemort had held each meeting at a different location, in case their location had ever been found out. Snape was thankful for his paranoia now, as it would only help him to hunt down the remaining ones.

He climbed the staircase, treading lightly to avoid any squeaky steps. He could see the dust on the railing even in the dim lighting, and decided against trailing his hand along the wood. The subjects of the paintings had long since left their frames for a better place. Severus thought the house eerily quiet, the lack of security unsettling him slightly.

He turned left down the second floor hallway, creeping his way toward the only light in the house. He shed the cloak as he approached the door, wanting Macnair to know full well who had come for him.

He opened the door, letting it slam against the wall. He was seated in a faded green armchair, surrounded by empty bottles of scotch and firewhiskey. His tumbler was half full, but he never looked over.

"Sev'rus," he muttered, raising his glass as if in a toast before draining it and dropping it to the floor. Snape watched as the glass cracked, leaking the rest of the scotch onto the hardwood. "I was wond'ring when you'd come,"

Snape didn't say a word, instead, he simply raised his wand and stepped ominously close to the other man, who started laughing. He could smell the liquor on his breath, making his stomach twist. "You have no idea how I've been looking forward to this," he whispered dangerously, jamming his wand underneath Macnair's throat.

Macnair chuckled again, batting his wand away. "Please," he scoffed, shifting in his chair but never making a move to get up or reach for his wand, which was laying on the table next to him. Snape took it then, and snapped it, watching the other man's face. He had stayed impassive. What was he playing at?

"Please," he repeated, "Let me," he chuckled darkly once, and Snape took a step back as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocket watch. "It's over," he whispered, and in a flash he had drawn the sharp blade down his left wrist, marring the black skull that was there.

"Why?" Snape asked quietly, without making an effort to help him.

Macnair grunted, already growing paler. He mimicked his movement on the other wrist, sighing contently as he watched the crimson blood flow onto the floor, pooling around his empty glass. He laughed once, meeting Snape's eyes, before he closed his own.

Severus shook his head, wondering what had gotten to the man so much that he was pushed to such extremes. To his knowledge, no Death Eater had ever taken their own life, it didn't make sense. They lived for pain, they knew none of their own. He shrugged, slightly shaken but not worrying himself over it. He had done him a favor. He stood, turning back to the door.

"Snape," came a sharp whisper. He drew his wand quickly, just able to block the disarming spell that had flown toward him.

"Rowle," Snape ground out, shooting a stunning spell in his direction. It bounced off the other's wand, hitting a light with a sharp crackle.

"He owled...What did you say to him?"

"Nothing," Snape replied simply. "He was too fragile, it seems."

Rowle snarled, throwing himself bodily at Snape, who hit him square in the chest with a knockback spell.

"You always did let your emotions get the better of you," Snape spat, "Honestly, I thought even you were smarter than to abandon your wand in the face of another wizard," he tutted, placing his foot on Rowle's chest painfully. He muttered a spell and watched with satisfaction as ropes wound out of the end of his wand and around the struggling figure. "Don't bother," he said icily.

He turned back to the room, nodding once in satisfaction before leaving, locking and sealing the door behind him. He made his way back towards the stairs, stopping with his foot on the top step as he spotted a white glow emanating from the bottom of the stairs. He hesitated, hand on the railing as it became brighter. All of a sudden, a white phoenix flew up the stairs and he breathed a sigh of relief: Dumbledore. His relief was short-lived, however, as he realized it undoubtedly held news about Harry.

The phoenix stopped in front of him. "Harry's brain activity is increasing, he's starting to move restlessly. Poppy thinks he will wake up soon."

Snape nodded at the bird before it flew away and dissipated into smoke, conjuring his own patronus to take its place. "Macnair Estate. Second floor, first door on the left. Two Death Eaters. One dead, another restrained. Wards dismantled." He sent the doe to the Ministry, seeking Marius Palont, the new Minister of Magic. They would be taken care of within the hour, he was sure.

He made his way to the front steps, turning to look at the mansion once more. He grinned darkly. "Two down, three to go," he muttered, before disapparating back to the school grounds.

xx

"Albus," he said quietly, as he opened the door to the older man's office.

"Severus," he sounded slightly surprised as he turned around, making his way from the window back over to the desk. He stopped to pet Fawkes on his stand, looking at Snape curiously. "Shouldn't you be downstairs with Harry?"

"I'm on my way, I just wanted to tell you I have returned," he said stoically, not wanting to reveal just how badly he wanted to be on his way to the Hospital Wing. If Harry woke up and he wasn't there... But he had to inform the Headmaster of his recent happenings, that much he knew.

"Have you found anything since the last time you stopped in?"

"Yes," he said shortly, running a hand through his hair. "I found Macnair in his Estate, although he ended up slashing his own wrists when I entered," he scowled, still confused by the other man's actions. He shrugged, he supposed it didn't really matter now that he was dead. "And then Rowle came in looking for him. I left him restrained and sent a patronus to the Ministry," he finished coolly.

Dumbledore nodded. "I will call the Minister. Go to him," he said softly. Snape was sure he could read all of the emotions he had tried to hide.

Snape nodded once before turning on his heel and descending back down the stairs. He moved swiftly through the corridors, ignoring the curious glances from the students. They no doubt found his sudden absence odd, and it was even stranger to see him rushing about the castle every now and then without resuming his classes. The other professors hustled them along where they could, all having been enlightened upon the situation.

"Is he awake?" He asked Poppy as he walked in, angling himself toward Harry's bed.

"Not yet, no. Should be soon, though," she murmured as she tried to calm a crying first year.

He drew back the curtains to the boy's bed, sighing in relief as he saw his face. His breathing was even and deep, and the bruises on his face were lighter than when he had visited a few days ago. He sat down heavily, drawing the curtains back around the bed to avoid the gawking students that occupied the other beds.

He leaned back, tapping his fingers on the wood of the chair as he watched the young man sleep. He sighed, relaxing slightly. He was always on edge when he had to leave Harry in this state, but he knew he was too stubborn to leave the job to the Ministry. He would find the last three quickly, and then he could come back to stay.

A small movement pulled him from his thoughts and he snapped his eyes onto Harry, who was turning his head slightly back and forth on the pillow. He let out a soft groan and Snape sat forward, taking Harry's hand in his own. His eyelids were twitching, and Snape willed them to open, wanting to see the green irises hidden underneath. Suddenly, they were open and looking at him, even if the gaze wasn't as clear as he was used to. He sighed.

"Harry?" He asked quietly. "Harry, can you hear me? Do you know who I am?"

Harry blinked once, a look of confusion marring his features and Snape's heart sank. But then he nodded, wincing slightly with the effort. "Sev'rus," he croaked, coughing slightly at the dryness in his throat. Snape conjured a glass of water and held it out to him silently, keeping a watchful eye on him as he slowly sat up. He relaxed slightly. He had called him Severus, which meant his memory was intact at least. He doubted the five of them would have been able to effect his magic; Harry was more powerful than even he realized. Snape had been able to feel his magic thrumming just under his skin from the first moment they had touched.

He placed Harry's glasses on his face before sitting back down again. They watched each other for a while as he sipped at his water.

"Do you...feel okay?" Snape asked, not quite sure how to go about being at someone's bedside. It wasn't something he had much practice in.

Harry leveled him with a gaze that said 'really?'. He cleared his throat once. "Not terrible," he admitted, voice still scratchy. "Probably look worse,"

Snape nodded, letting loose a single laugh. "You look like hell," he said.

Harry glared at him. "I've not been awake five minutes you could at least try to be nice,"

Snape nodded again, smirking. He really was okay. "I'll try," he conceded.

"Really?" Harry asked, eyes skeptical.

"I didn't say it would work," Snape pointed out, leaning on Harry's bed.

A shaky hand came and rested on the top of his head, playing with his hair. Snape sighed. "You should get some rest,"

"I've been sleeping for days, stop trying to get rid of me," Harry teased, pulling playfully on the ends of Snape's hair. It was worrying how weak it felt to him. Snape just sighed, not pushing it.

"How long _was _I out?" The question was hesitant.

"Four days," Severus said quietly. The soft sigh surprised him and he glanced upward. Harry didn't look too perturbed by the news, he looked more like he wished he hadn't missed the time instead of being concerned about what it meant for his health. Then again, he was known to frequent the Hospital Wing from one thing or another. Snape shook his head.

"Have you...I mean...have you been here? The...whole time?" Harry sounded unsure of himself.

"No," The green eyes dropped to their lap, but Snape hadn't missed the flash of disappointment. He continued, "I was looking for who did this to you. I made sure Dumbledore would tell me when there was a change," he said softly, almost awkwardly. He didn't want to hurt Harry more, but he had never talked about feelings or sentiments with anyone before. He usually made a point not to, if he was being honest.

Harry nodded. "Who was it?"

"Some former Death Eaters. They aren't too...happy with me since the war ended. Albus is working on how they got in, and I'm working on making sure they aren't able to cause any more trouble,"

"That doesn't sound good," Harry pouted. "You're going after them, aren't you?" He accused, a faint blush tingeing his cheeks.

"Don't get yourself worked up," Snape whispered harshly. He worked to soften his voice, "I'll be fine, they are hardly the brightest. Besides, I've already taken care of almost half of them,"

Harry furrowed his brow but said nothing. "I have your Cloak. If you don't mind," he tacked on, trying to fulfill his promise to try to be nicer.

Harry shook his head. "Keep it, if it'll help," he said shortly, obviously not happy with how Severus had been spending his time.

"Look, I'll be fine," he assured him. "There's three more and I'm done. I won't kill them, if it makes you feel better," he tried to persuade him, knowing how Potter felt about the Killing Curse. Harry nodded, looking slightly more at ease.

"Promise?" Harry asked petulantly.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Yes, I promise," he drawled, leaning up to kiss him once. "Now, can we drop this?"

Harry nodded, "I guess I couldn't change your mind anyway," he said bitterly. Snape snorted. It was true, after all. They were nothing if not stubborn, the both of them.

"I'll be fine," he said once more, annoyed. They shouldn't be discussing his well being anyway, not when Harry was the one propped up in a hospital bed.

"Do you need anything? Water? Potion for the pain?" He asked, keen to change the subject.

Harry thought it over, "Food?" Snape nodded, calling Poppy over to get him a meal he was allowed to eat at this point. He watched him eat hungrily, a smile fighting along the edges of his mouth. He would be just fine. They sat quietly together most of the day, Harry dozing in and out. He always had the same look of astonishment, however, when he awoke again and Severus had not left.

Severus decided to spend the night with Harry before heading back out in the morning. A few more hours wouldn't hurt.


End file.
